Hardly had this never-to-be-forgotten conversation come to a close when her feet entered “the swelling of Jordan,” and found no rest until they walked the “sweet fields beyond.”  Her disease (gastro-enteritis) returned with great violence; the medical appliances seemed to have little or no effect; and the paroxysms of pain were excruciating.  A chill, also, began to creep over her.  About two o’clock, to my inexpressible relief, the doctor arrived.  Her first thought was that he should rest a little and that some ice-cream should be brought to him.  In answer to his inquiries she told him that she had never known agony such as she had endured that forenoon, and he immediately applied remedies adapted to the case.  But they afforded only temporary relief.  A terrible restlessness seized upon her and would not let go its hold.  Towards evening she got into the sea-chair, and remained in it near the open window until morning.  On leaving for the night Dr. Wyman intrusted her to the care of Dr. Slocum, who had recently come to Dorset.  Dr. S. remained with her all night and was indefatigable in trying to alleviate her sufferings.  “How kind he is!” she said to me once when he had left the room.  M. sat up with me till towards morning and assisted in giving the medicines.  Her distress could only be assuaged by inhaling chloroform every few minutes and by the constant use of ice.  As from time to time, going down for the ice, I stepped out on the piazza, the scene that met my eye was in strange contrast to the one I had just left.  Within the sick-chamber it was a night dark with suffering and anxiety; as the hours passed slowly away, my heart almost died in the shadow of the coming event; all was gloom and agitation except the sweet patience of the sufferer.  But the beauty and stillness of the night out of doors was something marvellous.  The light of the great harvest moon was like the light of the sun.  It flooded hills and valley with its splendor.  The outlines of each mountain, of every tree, and of all visible objects, far or near, were as distinct as those of the stars, or of the moon itself.  As I stood and gazed upon the infinite beauty of the scene, I felt, as never in my life before, how helpless is Nature in the presence of a great trouble.  The beauty of the night was fully matched by that of the morning.  As the first rays of the sun crossed the mountains and shone down upon the valley, I said to myself, even while my heart was racked with anxious foreboding—­“How wonderful!  How wonderful!”

Monday, Aug. 12th.—­For some hours she seemed much more comfortable, and, in the course of the morning, of her own accord, was removed from the chair to the bed.  “On Monday morning (writes Dr. Wyman) I found her with temperature nearly normal, pulse less than 100, and other symptoms improved.  This gave us hope that the worst was passed, but it was only the lull before the storm.”  She was for the most part quiet and took little notice